Chapter 125
Ellie's POV
The night air smelled of cool stone and freshly trimmed hedges as Dominic and I walked down the long driveway leading away from his parents' estate.
Neither of us spoke.
Our footsteps echoed softly against the gravel, settling into an awkward rhythm. His stride was naturally longer than mine, yet he slowed without saying a word so I wouldn't have to hurry to keep up.
The lanterns lining the path cast long, wavering shadows that stretched across the ground, tangling together before slipping apart again.
I kept my eyes fixed ahead.
Looking at him felt... dangerous.
Maybe it was because the night was so peaceful.
Maybe it was because walking beside him like this reminded me too much of the last time we'd shared a quiet moment.
Or maybe it was because dinner still sat like a stone in my stomach.
His parents' smiles.
Their expectations.
The way they spoke was as though our future had already been decided.
I'd told them no.
Had they even heard me?
Or had they simply decided my answer didn't matter?
Without realizing it, I rub my elbow.
"Cold?"
Dominic's voice catches me completely off guard.
I jump.
"What?"
"You look cold."
"Oh."
I shake my head quickly.
"No. I'm fine."
And I am.
Standing beside Dominic has never felt cold.
If anything...
He's always been frustratingly warm.
The path narrows ahead, forcing us closer together.
Our sleeves brush.
Just once.
The brief contact sends an unexpected spark racing up my arm.
I immediately step away, curling my fingers tightly into my palm.
He notices.
I know he does.
But he doesn't say anything.
We continue in silence.
The gravel crunches beneath our shoes, impossibly loud in the quiet night.
When the Alpha estate finally disappears behind us, I expect to feel lighter.
Instead, the knot inside my chest only tightens.
"I'm sorry."
His voice breaks the silence so suddenly that it startles me.
I glance over.
He's still staring straight ahead.
His jaw is tense.
Both hands are buried deep inside his pockets, almost as though he's afraid of what they'll do if he lets them hang at his sides.
"For tonight," he says.
A pause.
"For... everything."
"Our fight."
"The things I said."
I think of a dozen different responses.
Some sharp.
Some honest.
Some are angry enough to start another argument.
Instead...
I let out a tired sigh.
"It's okay."
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
"And..."
I swallow.
"I'm sorry too."
The apology is real.
The forgiveness...
Not quite.
I'm simply too exhausted to keep fighting.
"It feels like every conversation we have ends the same way."
I give a small, humorless laugh.
"We argue."
"We apologize."
"Then we do it all over again."
Dominic doesn't answer.
Maybe he's just as tired as I am.
The road grows narrower as we approach my neighborhood.
Trees crowd closer together, their branches swallowing the moonlight until shadows stretch across the path.
Our hands swing naturally at our sides.
Close.
So close that I become painfully aware of the tiny space separating my fingers from his.
One careless step...
One slight shift...
And they'd touch.
Without thinking, I slow down.
A heartbeat later...
He slows, too.
The moment hangs between us.
Fragile.
Testing.
I force myself to look away and keep walking.
Eventually, we reach my front gate.
I stop.
He does the same.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
Then Dominic lets out a slow breath, as if he's finally reached a decision.
"Don't worry."
I look up.
"I'll convince them."
I blink.
"Convince who?"
"My parents."
His voice is calm.
Matter-of-fact.
"I'll get them to change their minds."
I frown.
"So you can be with Lucas."
The words hit me so hard I actually forgot how to speak.
"It's what you want... isn't it?"
My eyes widen.
What?
"Dominic, that's not—"
He shakes his head.
"I'll handle it."
As though the matter is settled.
As though he's doing me a favor.
Before I can finish my sentence—
Before I can tell him just how spectacularly wrong he is—
He turns around.
And walks away.
I stand frozen at my gate, watching his broad figure disappear into the darkness.
My exhaustion slowly gives way to irritation.
How is it possible...
That even when he's trying to help...
He still refuses to hear what I'm actually saying?
I let out a frustrated groan.
"Ugh."
Shaking my head, I climb the front steps, digging through my purse until I find my keys.
I unlock the door as quietly as possible.
Slip inside.
Ease it shut without making a sound.
I barely finish turning the knob—
"Where the hell have you been?"
I freeze.
The lights in the sitting room snap on all at once.
My stepfather stands in the center of the room.
His jacket is gone.
His sleeves are rolled to his elbows.
His jaw is tight enough to crack stone.
He looks like he's been waiting for hours.
"I asked you a question."
His voice is sharp enough to cut.
"Where."
He takes one slow step toward me.
"Have."
Another.
"You."
Another.
"Been?"
I tighten my grip on my purse.
"Out."
My voice comes out smaller than I'd intended.
"I told Mom that I—"
"Don't."
He cuts me off.
"Lie to me."
He points a finger directly at me.
"I know exactly where you were."